A Hollow Melody
A tarnished metal triangle lay forgotten in an overturned cardboard display behind the prize counter. I dragged the tip of my rigid finger across its cold steel bar, catching the small metal striker tethered to its base by a yellowed nylon cord. Lifting the striker with a dry, mechanical twitch of my wrist, I swung it slowly until it met the frame. A single, pure chime sliced through the dead gloom, resonating deep in the cavity behind my ribs long after the strike faded.